Back in the Game
by Amy Renee
Summary: One shot. Set early Season 1: In the wake of a hunt and an injury, the brothers rediscover what they went four years without.


Back in the Game

The black dog's body jerked back with each of the four silver rounds Dean's gun pumped into its chest. It fell to the floor in with a satisfyingly boneless thud and was still.

Dean ran over to where Sam lay with his back to him. His heart was hammering against his ribs.

Sam was moving, curling in on himself. His eyes were screwed shut. Dean placed his hands on his shoulders and carefully pulled him towards him.

"Let me see," he said gently. Fear underlined the gentility.

Sam attempted to uncurl, winced and started to draw his knees back up. Dean pushed them down with one arm. He splayed the palm of his other hand across Sam's chest, straightening his brother's torso as best he could. He looked down. There was blood.

Stupid. This had been stupid. Sam had been out of the game for four years. He couldn't help but be a little rusty. He had insisted he was ready for this hunt and Dean had abided him despite feeling reluctant.

He had ignored his natural instinct. He'd done it for Sam. But his instincts had always been in tuned to Sam, in protecting him.

His heart went cold at the sight of the blood and torn fabric across Sam's stomach. He hauled the hem of his brother's shirt up. Blood welled out of four long slashes from navel to mid-rib. They hadn't penetrated the abdominal wall.

Relief washed over the older brother and he let it out in a exhale. He wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and sat him up, holding him against his chest.

Sam was calming now and his body relaxing a bit. Though he couldn't help the winces and breaths that came out in a hiss against the fire that burned in stomach.

"You're okay. You're okay, Sam," the elder brother spoke from just above his head.

Sam leaned his head further into that warm solid chest. He could hear the steady thump of his brother's heart as it slowed to a normal beat, no longer beating too quickly out of fear. Fear for him.

He heard that same fear replaced by relief and solidarity in Dean's voice. He noted Dean's arms tightening around him; heard and felt his well practiced need to comfort, like they'd never missed a beat. Sam let it fill him.

"Sammy?"

"I told you, it's Sam," he managed.

"Not to me."

Sam smiled into Dean's shirt.

"I just... I need a minute," he said earnestly. "Forgot how much this hurts."

Dean clutched him closer; shielding him. Protecting.

"Yeah. Me too," Dean said softly. Dean had wanted nothing more than to have Sam back with him. Yet having him back meant he would be hunting, meant he could get hurt. Sam hurt never sat well with Dean. He had forgotten too. So he held Sam and Sam let him.

"I did miss you, you know," Sam spoke after a moment. He hadn't truly realized it until now. His need for independence and his own life had somehow taken some sort of precedence over a lifetime of conviction and trust. He felt it again now and gratefully welcomed it back. Even though he still desired that sense of independence, he knew he wanted this too.

"I know," Dean replied.

And Dean did know, because he had felt the same. Four years apart while Sam was at college and not speaking for almost two couldn't change that.

Sam reached the hand that wasn't lightly pinned between himself and Dean's chest up and grasped Dean's arm. It was understanding and reaffirming.

Dean rested his cheek against Sam's head. It felt good to be needed again. It felt good to have purpose once more.

They remained that way for a while longer, reclaiming what was theirs, then Dean decided to save what pride he might have left after declaring, "no chick flick moments." Though he wasn't really embarrassed or annoyed. Not in the least.

"Let's get you fixed up," he told Sam. He slung his brother's arm over his shoulder and they stood together. They shared a look.

"What about the black dog?" Sam asked.

"I'll burn it later. You first."

Sam's mouth tugged up and he let his brother lead him out.


End file.
